


Lifestyle of the Rich and Miraculous

by smtsandi



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:46:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5396444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smtsandi/pseuds/smtsandi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Marinette’s life was a movie, it would be a straight to video cheesy drama. You want fashion, unrequited love, and friendship? Grab a camera and follow her around for a day.  For a man with just about everything a life like this can be very lonely. Adrien knows that feeling all too well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own anything except this story!! All credits go to the writers of Miraculous Ladybug!! I wasn’t sure if they announced the exact name of Gabriel’s fashion house so I went with something easy. I also know nothing of fashion and how fashion shows really work, but I tried to do a little bit of research. This is AU!!!

“What do you mean the shoes don’t fit?” 

“We need the next model to go up now!”

“Get this poor boy over to makeup!” 

As of right now being in a hectic room with over 70 models, 60 make-up artists, and numerous designers was not the most ideal situation to be in, but for Marinette Dupain-Cheng it was a normal day at work. Pushing pass production members, adjusting outfits on models so they could strut their stuff on the catwalk, and trying not to have a nervous breakdown was definitely normal. Fashion was Marinette’s life so she couldn’t complain. Even with the long hours, lack of sleep, and dealing with clients who might as well have been sent by the devil; Marinette wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You are a Dupain-Cheng! Hard work and determination will always pay off in the end.“ Words to live by thanks to her father. Without the love and support of her parents, Marinette wasn’t sure how she would have made it as far as she did in this world. Especially in a world where fashion made you “it’s bitch” as her best friend Ayla liked to put it.

While being in this industry had its negative moments the good times outweighed the bad by far. Tonight is a prime example of that. Tonight is where Paris’ Fashion Week comes to a close with one of the world’s leading fashion houses to put the cherry on top. Agreste Creations was known for bringing fashion to the next level. Agreste always pulled out all the stops for their numerous lines, which was why Marinette made it her mission to work there as soon as she was done with college.

After receiving an internship, Marinette was given the chance to showcase her skills for the head of the company himself, Gabriel Agreste when a designers had quit on him a day before they were to meet with Vogue Paris for a Fall shoot. It was one of those, don’t screw this up or you’ll never work in this country again kind of moments. A moment Marinette never took for granted. Within a span of two years she went from being a wet behind the ears young woman with a dream to a senior level designer.

“Marinette, we have a problem!” A voice calls out causing Marinette’s focus to switch gears. Briskly walking over to one of the team leaders who looked as if she saw a murder, Marinette put on her best game face. 

“What’s going on?” Marinette’s eyes glance behind the frantic woman just in time to see one of the male models running by in only his boxers. “What in th-”

“He says he had gotten sick earlier, but figured he could still do the show. He threw up all over his clothes and another model is suppose to take his place, but he isn’t here yet! I believe he just finished another show across town! The next group is suppose to go on in twelve minutes!”

The girl’s entire explanation was a jumbled mess. She was obviously new at this, but Marinette was like her at one point and understood what it was like to be in situations like these. “Do we have any idea who the model is?” The girl shakes her head and hands Marinette a clipboard. “I wrote down his information, but I was too busy freakin- I mean assessing the situation to get his name.”

Skimming over the paper Marinette starts formulating how she wanted the model to look. One of her many talents was putting together various styles in her head without having the model near her. Because of this Marinette quickly went up the ranks becoming a force to be reckoned with during photoshoots and shows as grand as this within the company. “Let me know once the model is in hair and make-up and I will take care of it.”

“Ten minutes! Group C, you have ten minutes.” Another person yells.

With that Marinette quickly enters a large room filled with men’s clothing on racks, grabbing as many articles of clothing as she could. The adrenaline rush she felt as she analyzed each garment was one of the things she loved most about this job.

One of the production managers walks in breaking Marinette from her concentration. “We got your model, Ms. Cheng.” 

“Send him in.” She felt the presence of a few people enter the room as she grabbed a pair of shoes. Figuring it was the model surrounded by hair and make-up artists she turns towards them with a look of determination. “Let’s get you fi…” Marinette’s words slowly trail off as she comes face to face with the man she was suppose to work with. 

Adrien Agreste, her bosses son and the man of her dreams.

Adrien Agreste was a fine specimen who Marinette had the pleasure of meeting at the same photoshoot that got her a permanent job at Agreste. She knew of his existence prior to that. In fact the entire world knew the son of Gabriel Agreste. He’s been modeling since he could walk and made seasoned models look like Quasimodo. Marinette remembered seeing him at the age of fourteen on the cover of J-14. His big smile, golden locks, and bright green eyes were all it took to make most girls faint. Fast forward ten years later and he still had that effect on women.

When Adrien spoke to her for the first time he said he was glad that she was the only one around that wasn’t trying to get in his pants. Which she replied with “I wouldn’t be able to fit anyway.” She died from embarrassment and he practically died laughing. Getting tongue tied and saying the wrong things was a trait Marinette loathed to no end. The only good thing to come from that experience was receiving a nod of approval from Gabriel and a “Don’t make us regret this.” from his secretary.

She worked with Adrien a few more times after that and the end results were the same. More rambling, more laughter and Marinette still couldn’t muster up the courage to carry out a decent conversation with him. Ayla tried coaching her in the art of dating, but in Marinette’s eyes she was a lost cause. What young, insanely hot supermodel in their right mind would want to date someone who wasn’t equally as beautiful? Plus, she heard through the grapevine that a starlet by the name of Chloé Bourgeois, caught his attention. Can’t really compete with a pretty blonde who probably had daddy buy her way to where she is.

“Heard you needed an extra body.” Adrien smiles at her as one man tousles his hair from side to side and a woman dabs his face with some sort of powder. The most baffling thing about their uncomfortable encounters was that he continued to strike small talk with Marinette. He was so nice and the thought of that made him even more attractive. 

“Yours will definitely do.” Did that sound as bad as she thought it did? “I mean I appreciate the help! Put these on so we can make you more attractive than you already are. Which would be hard considering you’re so…” She was doing it again. Coughing awkwardly she hands him a cream plaid shirt, a navy blue vest and matching pants, along with a tweed grey coat. It didn’t take the man long to dress himself into the vision Marinette had created. With a couple of adjustments to the jacket and a few pulls and tugs later she takes a step back to marvel at her work.

He was truly a work of art that she didn’t deserve to lay eyes on. But something was missing. ‘A hat maybe? No, it would kill the look completely.’ Placing one hand on her hips and another under her chin she bites her bottom lip deep in thought. Then it came to her. Walking over to one of the boxes containing unused accessories she rummages through the large container in hopes to find the item that would bring the look together.

“Got it!” She perks up while pulling out a dark blue bow tie and makes her way over to him. “Just gonna add this…um..thing here and we should be done.” It was amazing how well Marinette kept her composure around Adrien. The one thing Marinette valued more than Adrien’s opinion of her was her job. While she was extremely awkward when he was near she still had to put in some level of professionalism into her interactions with him. That meant getting over her infatuation with him for at least a minute or two and doing her job.

Getting close enough to tie the bow tie around his neck, Adrien straightens himself so she could properly adjust the small accessory. Just because she had to act professional didn’t mean her stomach wasn’t going to do flips. On the outside she was cool, calm, and focused, but her insides were like a war zone. Not many women can say they were this close to him. They would most likely kill to be in a position where you could hear his heartbeat in a slow rhythm. The smell of him alone was intoxicating. “Pineapples…” She whispers under her breath. “You say something?” Adrien asks, his eyes glancing down at her. She curses inwardly and looks up at him with a nervous smile. “I was going to get pineapple slices at the…um… craft service table!” 

Before he could even respond another manager makes an announcement.

“Two minutes, people! Let’s get our beauties out there!”

Thank goodness for time crunching. Another few seconds and Marinette would have to add this moment onto her forever growing list of awkward times with Adrien.

“Looks like that’s my cue.” Adrien turns to face the large mirrors quickly practicing a few poses. He gives Marinette a thumbs up signifying the look definitely works and proceeds to walk out with his stylist team in tow. 

“Break a leg! Not really, but…” ‘Stop talking and just wave Marinette!’ She waves him goodbye with a wide smile in hopes to send him off before she said something completely dumb. As if she didn’t already do that at least twice tonight. “Mari!” Hearing the sound of a familiar feminine voice replaced Marinette’s awkward smile with one that was genuine. 

Heading out the vast room Marinette spotted her ombre haired friend. “Alya!” Marinette practically pounces on her friend, giving her the tightest hug she could. Most of the events Marinette worked, Alya was there as a publicist. From celebrity scandals to holding red carpet interviews, Alya was well known for bringing the public in on the life of the rich and the famous. It all started when she created a blog back when they were still in high school. One post led to another and she was suddenly the go to expert on all things popular. “Whoa, girl! You’re lucky I love you or I’d smack you for wrinkling this $500 dress.” A small laugh escapes Ayla's lips as she returns the hug. “If you were here thirty seconds earlier you would understand why I need this hug.”

“Let me guess. You accidentally set fire to a craft service table and blamed it on electrical wiring?” That happened once and Marinette has yet to live that incident down. 

“First of all, it’s not my fault the tables were highly flammable! Second, I am a complete spazz and I hate it.” Marinette frowns and hangs her head. Alya picked up on the problem right away and gently patted her friend’s head. “Mari, I keep telling you that you gotta be confident. Take it from someone who has done stories on celebrity romance. Be direct, be honest and most importantly be yourself!” Why did that sound like some cheesy caption on an inspirational poster?

Taking advice from someone who wrote about gossip for a living wasn’t the brightest move, but taking advice from your best friend was a entirely different story. They tell you the things you don’t wanna hear, but you know deep down they are right. Marinette was grateful for her friend more than most realized. “You’re my own personal Jiminy Cricket, Alya. I love you so much.” She smiles softly and pulls her friend in for another hug.

“It’s my job to help my girl out even when she’s a clumsy, spazz who is worth so much more than she realizes.” Yup, she definitely was her best friend. Who else had the ability to point out her bad qualities and still made her feel special. “Anyway, you’re still coming with me to Cataclysm, right? I heard that’s where everyone is heading to after this.” 

Cataclysm was a nice little spot if you liked loud music, crowded spaces, and overactive drunks. The only nights you would catch Marinette there were Fridays. Friday nights were always masquerade night. It gave celebrities the opportunity to dress up and party without the hassle of having their face plastered on TV the next day. It gave Marinette the chance to unwind and drink her lovesick problems away. Responsibly, of course. 

In all honesty Marinette wanted to head home and sleep for at least three days. In order to pull off such a huge event required months of planning, no sleep, and patience which was something Marinette had to quickly learn. But having bailed on Alya two weekends in a row made her feel horrible. “Already have my outfit!” She gave Alya a weak smile. “Perfect! I would have dragged you over there if you said otherwise.” It wouldn’t have been the first nor second time. If there was one thing Marinette learned about her friend was that, she says what she means and means what she says. “Meet me after the show so we can head home together! Now if you’ll excuse me, I see a Sean O’pry who I need to introduce myself to.” And just like that Alya was gone.

The regret of accepting their little outing was gnawing at her. Just what had Marinette agreed to?


	2. Shirley Temples

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette gains a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Thoughts’  
> Disclaimer: I don't anything!

Adrien’s POV

Bright lights, camera flashes, and loud music blasted through unknown speakers. The runway stretched out and curved around the audience as they watched in awe as the models walked. It was all very common and predictable when you’ve walked down a runway for half your life. The nervousness that came with having thousands of people watch you went away at the tender age of seven. “You are an Agreste. You don’t get to be nervous.” His father’s secretary, Natalie commented monotonously. 

How could you tell a little kid that? How can you put a child in the limelight without so much as a heads up. A little “Hey, your entire life will be judged from the moment you leave your mother’s womb to the day you die. Also, you gotta put on these random clothes and take pictures like a little show monkey for people who will never buy our stuff, because it’s so overly priced.” would have been nice. 

There was so much that Adrien had to live up to, because being the son of a top of the line fashion designer meant not screwing up. People deemed him lucky to have all the luxuries that came with his lifestyle. They envied his ability to obtain money, cars, and women without so much as a hesitation. Having “friends” who were only around you for your namesake and wealth, a father who has spent more time in the office than with you, and a life that was not just your’s, but the entire world’s wasn’t the way to live. He wouldn’t wish a life like this on his worst enemy.

Finally reaching backstage his stoic expression changed to one more relaxed. The confidence he had seconds before slowly eased until all that was left was exhaustion. Being up since five in the morning, flying in from the United States, and accomplishing three shows back to back would drain anyone. He would have to thank Natalie for his hectic schedule later, but his first priority was sleep. He couldn’t wait to reunite with his nice, warm bed after a week of being a part. The thought of whispering sweet nothings into the bed sheets as his eyes drifted close was all it took to send shivers down his spine. ‘Plagg was most likely giving his sitter hell, but again that was the last thing on his mind. 

Not even a second later a hand wraps around his right arm, pulling him over to the side. Blonde curls were now in his line of vision and it was then he realized who it was. Chloé Bourgeois, the daughter of a French politician, was a woman who was spoiled, overly persistent, and high maintenanced. All the qualities Adrien had no interest in dealing with. 

For some reason, like the leech she was, Chloé latched herself onto Adrien in hopes of becoming a power couple. A couple that would never see the light of day despite what most media outlets foretold. “You were so great out there, Adrien.” She smirks at him and he scrunches his nose in disgust. Was it too late to walk back on stage? The idea of breaking free and running off seemed like the best choice, but that would be improper. He liked being improper. 

“Thanks…Chlo. Listen I got-” Chloé wraps her arms around his neck pulling him in for a kiss. A sacrifice must made. ‘Lips or cheek? Cheek, definitely cheek.’ Turning his head quickly her lips made contact with his cheek. The urge to scrub his face immensely was strong. She clearly didn’t understand meaning of personal space. Inhaling deeply, Adrien gently pushes the clingy woman away, receiving a pout in return. “When are we going to announce that we are officially dating? How am I suppose to show affection when we can’t do anything in public?” 

There was a huge possibility Chloé believed in her delusional mind that there was something between them. The only thing between them were clothes, his common sense, and soon to be written up restraining order. “Chloe, I would like nothing more than to answer that, but I-” As if on cue Natalie wedges herself between the two and hands Adrien his phone, completely ignoring Chloe’s glare. 

“Your insufferable friend wishes to speak with you.” The sound of a bass dropping and yelling could be heard from the other end of the line. He found his outlet. He bids both ladies goodbye overlooking Chloe’s annoyed expression and heads into the dressing room. “You picked the perfect time to call, Nino.” 

“Can’t tell if that’s sarcasm so I’ll ignore that, bro. You need to get your butt over here. There’s people waiting for the host with most to make an appearance!” Ah, yes.. With fashion week officially over, there was still one more thing left to do. It was time for an Agreste to do what Agreste’s do best. End this week with a bang. While masquerade night was a weekly event, this time around there were people from all over the world coming to see how an Agreste throws a party. ‘Team no sleep…’ He thought. A nice hashtag to add on his Instagram once all this was done. “Just finishing up here. Give me another thirty minutes.” The call ended between the two and it left him feeling melancholy.

Adrien wasn’t happy. The only time he could say he was at his happiest was when he wasn’t himself. There was only one way to achieve that. 

 

Marinette’s POV

Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how Marinette felt. Why was she sitting at a bar by herself when she made promises to her bed that morning, saying she would return show it some tender, love, and care as soon as the day was over? Because being a best friend came with making irrational sacrifices. But when that same friend leaves you to mingle with other people it was hard not complying with what the heart wanted. 

Marinette couldn’t blame it all on Alya, though. She had declined the offer to go out there just to have conversations with people she didn’t care for. Marinette was far from antisocial, but she could smell the fakeness off of those socialites from a mile away. She wasn’t going to subject herself to being who she wasn’t only to please them. 

Looking out onto the extensive dance floor there was possibly over a hundred people dancing along to the music. The majority of the crowd was dressed in ball gowns and suits, their faces hidden with masks. Masquerade night was in full swing and while Marinette had no interest to attend, she couldn’t pass up the chance to debut her latest outfit. Some patrons were obvious to pick out, but Marinette made sure she was unrecognizable.

No one knew her name, but they knew of her unique designs. If you spotted a young woman wearing different red dresses with black polka dots then you knew of Ladybug, a name given to her by the regulars of the club. Tonight was no different. Ladybug had done it again, creating a rockabilly inspired dress with the same color scheme as all of her other creations. Her hair had been curled to match the decade she was going for and her signature red and black mask shielded her from the rest of the world. 

Many people wondered who she was. She went from being an actress to a model in a matter of seconds during small talk. Little did they know that she was the woman who has helped create impressive looks for the very same celebrities they claimed her to be. As much as she would love to reveal herself, where was the fun in that? Alya often rolled her eyes at the idea of being so mysterious, but kept the secret nonetheless. 

Suddenly the music began to die down. The crowd including Marinette looked up to the stage as the DJ began to speak. “Yo, ladies and gentlemen. You’re in for a special treat tonight!” DJ Bubbler was his name, a popular DJ who made his mark during the grand opening of Cataclysm. Ayla had come into contact with him not too long ago and ever since has received free entrance into the nightclub for her and Marinette. Marinette didn’t know much about him except that he was close friends with Adrien, who just so happens to own the club. It wasn’t often the owner made an appearance, but when he did Marinette never had the pleasure of witnessing it.

“Now I know you all are ready to lose yourself with my crazy rhythms, but we need to end this week right. And here to end it with us is the one and only Adrien Agreste!” The crowd hollered in excitement as the blonde figure walked onto the stage, waving and smiling as he does so. Marinette’s ocean blue eyes were fixed right on him, her mind in a complete daze. He looked incredibly handsome wearing a classic black tuxedo and matching black mask that brought out the green in his eyes perfectly. Something about dark on light colors made Adrien even more aesthetically pleasing to observe. 

It was not until the sound of people clapping once again that Marinette realized she missed the entire announcement. She watches as Adrien hands the microphone over to the DJ and disappears backstage. 

Maybe he was going to stay and party with everyone else! She could already hear Ayla screaming for her to get her man, but the sudden fear of rejection was back in full force. She needed another drink. Looking over at the bartender she signals for another soda induced drink and rests her cheek against a propped up hand.

The bartender returns with an ice filled glass of Shirley Temple, handing it over to raven haired woman. Out of the corner of her eye there was another man gawking at a few seats down. He was either outright drunk or too busy daydreaming. Either way, his eyes were on her and it was very unsettling. The man almost fell out of his chair making it his mission to move closer to where Marinette sat. “Damn it…” She was hoping he was really good at sleeping with his eyes open. Turning down drunks was never fun, especially if they were the angry types. To Marinette’s surprise the man stopped in his tracks, his focus on something else and he immediately heads back to his seat. 

A look of defeat was plastered all over his face, which could only mean one thing “Looks like I came just in time, my lady.” Marinette’s eyebrow twitches as she lets out an exasperated sigh. Her so called “knight in shining armor” leaned over against the bar counter with a small smirk forming on his lips. His smug attitude was almost nauseating. 

“I would have handled it, Chat.” Chat Noir was a well known man within the Cataclysm walls. Women swooned when he graced them with his presence. Most women, anyway. There was no denying that he was good looking, but he was far from Adrien Agreste. The way Adrien carried himself was admirable, Chat Noir was just irritating. Like his namesake he was clad in a black suit, mask, and cat ears protruding from his messy blonde hair. He was a troublesome man who Marinette had become acquainted with in a similar situation almost two months ago. Ever since he “saved” her from a drunkard who got a little too touchy feely, Chat was tied to her at the hip. God only knew why. 

“You know I can’t stand by and watch someone unworthy of your time take you away from me.” She laughs mockingly. 

“From you? I’m not your play thing, stupid cat. You can’t just claim me." 

He takes a step back with a hand on his chest, his eyes feigning hurt. "Play thing? You wound me, my lady. I actually think very highly of you.”

“Do you now?” She raises an eyebrow while raising her newly filled glass to her lips. “Why the skeptical look? I saw a friend in potential trouble and I brought it upon myself to help her out.”

There was a sudden urge to spit out her drink in utter shock. "Since when are we friends?“

"Since I just declared it. Were you not listening?" She was tempted to smack him, but a feeble attempt would only result in having him laugh at her. ‘Annoying cat…’

"I will try not to hit on you if you accept my friendship.” That would be something Marinette would have to witness in order to believe. In the few weeks they had come to know one another, his attempts to romance her were anything but subtle. She wasn’t sure why he was so fascinated with her when there were probably a good amount of women that were just dying to sleep with the one and only Chat Noir.

“You promise?” Was she really going to entertain this idea? 

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” Marinette scoffs at the thought.

"You’d just come back with eight more lives.” He thought it was a joke, but she was at least half serious. He had characteristics that reminded her too much of a cat. His inability to follow rules, his lack of personal space, and his overly curious nature. A part of her actually believed he was raised by cats.

“Against my better judgment I have decided to accept a mutual friendship with you." He was grinning widely at her again. There goes that smugness of his, like he won some sort of battle. "Since we’ve established a friendship maybe I could obtain my friend’s number?” 

“I thought you said you weren’t going to hit on me.”

“I said I would "try”. Besides, I highly doubt exchanging phone numbers with yours truly will be the worst thing you could possibly do.“ He had a good point. She could think of a million things that could be worse than having him annoy her on a daily basis. Like making a fool out of herself in front of Adrien. One wrong move and she could lose any chance of interacting with him. 

There really wasn’t any harm in giving him her number. Marinette was a good judge of character and while he wouldn’t know "good” if it kicked him in the face, she liked his company. “You’re not going to send me nudes, are you?”

“Only if you ask nicely." An answer like that deserved a drink to the face, but the cherry grenadine was too good to waste on someone like him. "Fine, but one wrong move and I’m coming after you.” This was a bad idea. An idea that will she will surely lament over in the long run.

“I’d prefer if you came before me. I wouldn’t be a gentlemen if I didn’t give you proper satisfactory." 

This was a really bad idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Shirley Temple, for those who do not know, is a drink that some adults drink to look like they are drinking alcohol, but its really soda and syrup. I didn’t want Marinette to get drunk or tipsy (at least not in this chapter) so I rather her be fully aware. 
> 
> Plagg will be Adrien’s pet cat in this story! 
> 
> The reason for Marinette’s rockabilly style was....because I own a Monster High doll that had a cute similar style. I wanted to incorporate it!
> 
> Unfortunately, I will be out of the country for a week! You will have to wait for the next chapter, loves. I shall return soon!  
> P.S.: Notify me of any typos! I wanted to post this chapter at least before I left and I tried to edit as much as I could!


End file.
